


Professor Ferret

by MissDrarryDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 08:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDrarryDawn/pseuds/MissDrarryDawn
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts as the new Potions professor had been a dream come true for Draco. Learning that Harry Potter's own son would be in his class had put somewhat of a damper on the joy. However, Albus surprised Draco by being an excelling student, the two growing closer in return. Harry Potter being Harry Potter though, had to go cause trouble in paradise by way of a few well-placed provocations he'd taught Albus. At first, the blonde finds it amusing, however after a while it oversteps a line, so he calls Potter in for a chat, and gets much more than he bargained for...//Completed//Word count: 6.1k





	Professor Ferret

**Author's Note:**

> Been getting so many wonderful comments and support, I'm so grateful! Thank you all!

"Professor Ferret?" Draco heard a smug little voice call him. He sighed and with a muttered curse turned to face the boy.

"Albus, how many times have I told you not to call me that?" He asked, exasperated.

"Exactly 2345 times, sir." He smiled smugly. Draco heaved another sigh. Potter's kid was as trying as he remembers the man himself being. _Of course_.

"How many times will I need to tell you before you stop?" He asked again, not quite managing to glare despite his best efforts.

"At least a few thousand more times sir." Albus replied brightly. 

"What do you need Albus?" Draco finally asks, sitting down behind his desk in the classroom. He was wiping the board when the bugger came in.

Albus gave a shy smile and explained his issue. Surprisingly enough, Potter's kid excelled at Potions, and was one of Draco's best students. Miracles do exist it seems. Ever since he returned as a teacher at Hogwarts and learned that Harry Potter's son would be in his class, the infuriating child had not stopped calling him 'Professor Ferret'. At first it was _almost_ amusing, what with his and Potter's history, however now it had spread to his colleagues as well, and there were only so much kind, yet still incredibly smug grins Draco could take from Minerva.

He listened to the boy, who startlingly resembled his father, and tried his best to explain it. From his facial expressions, he could gauge that Albus understood, and Draco couldn't help but feel incredibly proud, despite himself. As the boy was about to leave, Draco stopped him however:

"Albus, a moment." He might be on of the brightest students, but he was not exempt from consequences for his behavior.

"Yes, professor?" The stupid cheeky grin reminded Draco of Potter senior too much.

"I would like a word with your father. Please owl him to come see me at his earliest convenience." 

Draco smoothed down his shirt, getting a nod from Albus, then the boy disappeared out the door. He slouched in the chair and rubbed his temples. That kid would be the death of him. He felt queasy, and cursed himself for it. It's been _years, _facing Potter again should not be as vexing of a thought as it was.

~

"I was wondering how long it would take before you broke." Potter grinned at him upon entering Draco's office, and the blonde suppressed a sigh. _That's _his opening line, after nearly a decade? Pitiful, though Draco expected as much.

"Good to see you too Potter." He forced through a tight smile, pointing Potter to a chair to take a seat. The man did. Draco had to begrudgingly admit, he aged well, the bastard.

"Always a delight, Malfoy." Potter outstretched his hand for a handshake, eyes glinting in a way that irked Draco still, all these years later.

"Really?" He couldn't help but roll his eyes, but he shook Potter's hand nonetheless. 

"So, why am I here?" Potter leaned back into the chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. He had that damn infuriating smile on his face still.

"I'm sure you're aware. It was kind of amusing at first, I'll admit. Have this strange kid run up to me yelling 'Professor Ferret' until I realized whose child it was."

"The rats nest of hair didn't give it away from the get-go?" Potter chuckled.

Draco sighed. He wasn't sure how someone that damnably attractive could be so _annoying._

"Still as annoying as ever. Talk to your kid Potter, the joke's old."

Another easy smile. Honestly, how could the wanker act so casual? As if they were old friends? They were everything _but _friends. He regarded Potter, who was standing up, with one of his 'teacher glares'.

"With you Malfoy, no joke ever gets old." He straightened up, and left the office with a polite 'goodbye'. Draco took a few deep breaths. He hated to admit Potter still had that effect on him. Make him so annoyed and riled up with just a few words. The git could ruffle his feathers like no other, and Draco really ought to get over it, and fast. 

~

The next day, as Draco walked into glass he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Albus wolfishly grinning at him, as if he was just _waiting _for something. It was the grin of a Slytherin, Draco would know. _What had Potter done? _Draco pretended not to notice though, and walked to the front, just thinking he'd managed to pass the little rascal, when:

"Morning, Professor Hippogriff."

He stopped and whipped around to glare at the smiling boy, momentarily stunned from replying, unsurprised when the boy had the nerve to keep speaking:

"You seem very alive to me, so it would appear it hasn't killed you, professor."

The rest of class was watching this exchange with a mixture of curious looks and a few snickers from Granger's kids. Draco took a deep breath, and promptly ignored the comment, which took a great deal more effort than he'd anticipated it would, and carried on with starting class, resolutely adamant not to give in into Potter's petty provocations.

~

And yet, a month later, Potter was in his office again, and this time Draco wouldn't be as polite.

"Potter, you're a grown man for Merlin's sake, act your age." He snipped, hating how composed the other was being. _React, damn you!_

"Yet here you are, still trying to provoke me." He arched an eyebrow, and pushed those hideous glasses higher up onto his nose.

"I am _not--_I will _not_ tolerate this behavior. I am his teacher, and I except at least the slightest bit of respect." Draco sneered. He expected another funny comment from the arsehole, but instead received a shockingly calm and polite reply, which only infuriated him more.

"Alright, Malfoy. I apologize. I'll talk to him." And just like that, Potter left. Draco glared at where he'd sat and honestly wished he'd hexed the chair in some way before the visit. 

~

"Professor Blondie!" Albus muttered brightly in passing when he ran into Draco on yet another morning that was going so _well. _For Salazar's sake, enough was_ enough!_

"Albus. Come to my office." He mused, not a hint of amusement in his voice. Alright, Potter, two can play this game.

The boy's face flickered, but he did as instructed, sitting at the chair in front of Draco's desk. Draco sat down and poised himself, allowing ample time for the boy to start squirming.

"I assume your father has been feeding you these..._nicknames_, for lack of a better word. Correct?" He finally spoke, closing his hands over the table. Albus nodded meekly:

"Yeah, he told me you used to go to school together."

"We did. What else has he told you?" Draco arched an eyebrow and waited. 

"Not much, a few funny stories to explain the nicknames." Albus shrugged.

"Right. Would you like me to tell you some funny stories about your father's younger years?" Draco smirked and tilted his head. He knew there was no way Albus would deny. He'd come to appreciate this thing with the Potters, this_ do now think later _policy in the many years he'd interacted with them. 

Just as he'd suspected, the boy broke out into a grin and nodded frantically, his wild hair flying everywhere. 

"Alright. So-" Draco began, and told Albus some of the stupidest stories he could remember, painted Potter as a right bumbling fool, perhaps even exaggerated a few details, but a story wasn't a story unless it had _flare._

_~_

Satisfyingly enough, the few times he'd come to Draco asking him to talk about Potter senior had served as enough to stop the atrocious nicknames, which Draco could not be more grateful for. Draco never asked after Potter's comments, partly because he didn't care, and it wasn't his business anyways. All he'd done was repay him in kind. Maybe he _was _petty. It didn't matter much anyways, he was just glad to have gotten it off his back. He hoped that was his last encounter with Potter, until one day Albus came into his office, cheeks tear stained.

"Albus? Are you alright?" Draco asked, worry immediately coiling his stomach. He immensely hated seeing his students cry, for any reason at all. The poor boy curled up on the chair and gave Draco a crumpled up letter. He swallowed and accepted it, smoothing it out before reading:

_'Auror Harry Potter had been badly injured at work, and is currently under intensive care in St.Mungos in critical condition. The injuries he sustained are both of a physical and magical nature. We are writing this to notify his son Albus Potter of his father's condition. Before he lost consciousness, Mr.Potter asked us to inform his son not to worry and has put in a request this letter go through to Mr.Draco Malfoy, a Potions Professor at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_Healer Wulltick.'_

Draco felt his heart stammer to a stop. _That absolute daft blithering idiot! _His eyes landed on the curled up boy in front of him, his stomach twisting.

"Your father will be okay Albus, he always is." Draco reached out and placed a hand on the distraught boy's shoulder. "He always pulls through, no matter the situation." Draco assured, voice quivering. Potter was the goddamn Savior of the Wizarding World, he wouldn't go down like this. He couldn't. He wasn't _allowed._

Albus only sniffled:

"He told me that...that if something ever..happened to him while I was in school..to come to you.." The boy wiped his eyes, but more tears came. Poor guy must be worried out of his mind for his stupid father. Draco stepped around his desk, and hugged Albus, unable to help himself. Albus hugged back and sniffled into his teacher's shirt a few more times, before stepping away.

"You really think he'll be okay, professor?" The hope in his voice was crushing.

"Your father saved the entire Wizarding World when he was only 17, it'll take more than a few criminals to take him down. If there's one thing I can say for absolute certain about Harry Potter is that he's the most stubborn man I've ever met and also the most loyal. He won't go out easily." Draco assured, offering a smile to Albus, who seemed to cheer up immensely. Draco knew the kid trusted him most out of all of his colleagues, and Draco was incredibly glad for it too, especially in a situation like this. 

~

Over the next week, Draco kept receiving updates from St.Mungos about Potter's condition, each worse than the last. However, whenever Albus asked, Draco lied with an uneasy smile and said Potter was getting better. He was reading the latest update, where all of Potter's injuries have finally been discovered and documented and quietly grinding his teeth in his office:

_'Auror Harry Potter has sustained the following injuries: 5 broken ribs, a concussion, a broken arm, been hit with Sectumseptra, been hit with Diffindo, sustained injury to left leg from being in the vicinity of Expulso. Further updates on his condition will be sent to Mr.Draco Malfoy, per his request._

_Healer Wulltick.'_

Draco stared blankly at the words. His 6th year flashed through his mind for a moment, before he dispelled such thoughts. Merlin, it was a miracle Potter was alive at all! What kind of monster from hell did he encounter to get that beat up? Hell, he had come out of defeating Voldemort with barely a scratch, and now he goes and does _this_?! No, it just wasn't allowed. Potter couldn't just leave his son behind so young! The boy had barely started his 3rd year! _Jesus. _Standing from his desk, Draco made a rather impulsive decision, which probably wasn't the wisest thing in the world, however Draco could admit he wasn't the smartest person at times. He found himself a replacement for his classes that day, and left. As soon as he was out of Hogwarts, he Apparated to St.Mungos's.

Entering, he quickly requested to see Harry Potter, getting a few suspicious glances which he ignored, and explained he was the one Potter had requested they keep in contact with. Eventually, they lead him in front of a room in intensive care, a big glass window allowing Draco to look inside, at the patient. His knees nearly buckled under him as he got a look at Potter. _Dear God he looks..._The man was pale, sullen, he was full of cuts and bruises, and Draco assumed completely bandaged under the covers. His heart was beating at a dreadfully slow rate, his chest barely rose and fell as he slept. Draco's stomach knotted up tight, though he was unable to look away. _Christ Potter what the fuck have you done? _The blonde had never seen his old school rival look so weak and broken before, and it was a jarring sight. _You better fucking survive this Potter, for Albus's sake or so help me. _

Turning on his heel and rushing out was the wisest thing Draco could have done in the moment, he would have fainted had he stayed a moment longer. Apparating home the instant he could, he grabbed a drink immediately. His classes for the day were covered, which was all that mattered, as he was in no condition to teach or do anything really. He downed a glass of scotch, and stared into the small fire of his fireplace, slumping in his armchair. Just when he hoped he was through with everything from the past, Potter manages to do this. He shouldn't have gone to see him, he knew, but he also needed to know. He thought back to the first encounter they'd had in so long, how Potter was all smiles and witty comments, like they'd been friends forever, like that was what they were always supposed to act like. It unnerved him at the time, now his heart just ached. He looked over halfway to death's door on that damned white bed at Mungo's, and it made Draco sick. 

He remembered all the way back to first year, when he realized who was the annoying kid nagging away at him 'Professor Ferret this' 'Professor Ferret that', how he had his reservations, but when Albus turned out to be an excellent pupil, interested in learning more even Draco couldn't help but let his walls down. He loved all of his students, of course, but he was just a tad bit closer with Albus, which was something he wouldn't ever want to admit. And then to find out that Potter had always told his son to go to Draco if anything happened to him while he was at school made it all worse. Why in the hell would Potter trust Draco with his kid? Furthermore, why request Draco to receive updates of his recovery instead of the Weaslette, or the Weasel or Granger or _anyone bloody else? _No, he goes and dumps this on Draco! They'd only interacted a handful of times after the War, and he already goes acting all chummy and trusting. Trust Potter to do that.

Draco sighed and had another drink, shaking his head. This was ridiculous. He'd gotten too involved with Potter's kid, and consequently Potter himself which is something he wanted to keep to a bare minimum, or avoid doing at all. Yet here he was, having done exactly that and clueless where to go from this point. He'd have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, but he was truly too tired to bother now.

~

For a full fucking month, Draco received absolutely nothing from Mungo's regarding Potter, and he was officially at the end of his tether. He felt as if he was losing his mind, and had put in several complaints to the hospital, but hadn't quite had the strength to go there again, after seeing Potter's condition. Albus was growing more and more worried too, and no matter how much Draco tried to assure him his dad will be just fine, he didn't quite believe it himself anymore. He was starting to suspect the worst, when one day while he was having tea in his office, someone knocked on his door.

"Enter." He called out quietly, and when the door opened, Draco nearly dropped his mug straight over his paperwork. There, in the doorway, stood Potter, with a crutch under his arm and a brace on his arm and leg. He was dreadfully skinny, but he was grinning and limping into Draco's office, closing the door behind him. For a few long seconds, Draco couldn't speak or think. Potter just stood there, his wretched grin and crooked glasses decorating his face, completely silent.

"_Y-You_-" Draco finally stuttered, placing his mug down because his hands were trembling.

"Me." The other man confirmed.

"You BASTARD!" Draco finally managed, flaring up as he stood and glared at Potter. His voice was strangely loud even to himself. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR SON POTTER?!" The blonde bellowed, resting his hands on his table, staring a hole through Potter's thick skull.

"I-" He tried to speak, but Draco didn't let him:

"No! You shut up! Do you realize what the past month had been like? For me? For him? How fucking dare you!" Draco circled the table and came to stand in front of Potter, still having a height advantage on him. "I went to see you you know? At Mungo's. You looked _dead_ Potter, fucking dead! Do you have the faintest clue how worried Albus had been?" He kept yelling, not caring if anyone heard him, too _fucking angry _to even comprehend what he was saying. 

"I know. I'm sorry." Potter mumbled, having the decency to look embarrassed.

"You're _sorry_? You have a responsibility towards your son Potter, you can't just go and throw yourself carelessly in danger anymore! We aren't kids anymore you reckless idiot!" It was only then that Draco realized he was crying. "I was fucking worried about you." He admitted hoarsely at the end, his anger simmering away. Now, he was just _relieved_ Potter was alive and standing in front of him. 

"I understand that. _Now_ I do anyways. I've resigned. I came to say thank you, for being there for Albus. He told me everything and I honestly can't thank you enough." His words were so honest, open, it choked Draco up.

"Why would you have the letters come to me instead of Granger or Weasel? Or the Weaslette?" 

The raven shrugged with his one healthy shoulder:

"Ginny left for America soon after Albus was born. Didn't want the responsibility. Ron and Hermione, well...they're amazing, but they would just lose their minds over it. And you, well, you're you."

"What does that have to do with absolutely anything?" Draco narrowed his eyes.

"You've never.." He rubbed his neck, thinking about how to word it. "You're the most levelheaded person I know. I knew you wouldn't panic or freak out, besides Albus loves you the most out of all of his teachers, and so I figured that you'd be the best option."

Draco deflated with a heavy sigh, shaking his head: 

"I really hoped I was done with you, you know? You, the War, the past, everything. And then you do this."

"I'm sorry Malfoy. I didn't have much time after they took me in to Mungo's, so I kind of spluttered the first person I thought of, which was you, then I passed out." 

Draco felt his stomach flip.

"Anyways, I wanted to thank you for helping Albus. It means the world to both him and me. Oh and.." He stopped for a moment, gesturing all around them: "I'm happy for you, truly." 

And he limped out of the room that suddenly felt way too small and cramped for Draco to be standing in. 

~

After that day, Potter had never bothered Draco again, and even Albus had begun treating him like nothing more than his teacher. Draco wasn't sure whether he was more relieved or upset by this, but he also didn't let himself think about it, so he wouldn't know. One day, Albus stayed after class, and was awfully quiet.

"Professor? Dad told me not to really bother you anymore, but I.." The boy trailed off, brushing away the fringe from his eyes. "From his letters I see he isn't happy. Don't ever tell him I gave you this, but..here. I have a feeling it all might have something to do with you." Albus left two envelopes on Draco's desk, and disappeared out of the classroom, before Draco could even respond. For a few moments, Draco didn't know whether or not to even look at the letters, but he saw that this meant a lot to Albus. A classical Potter, always caring about others first. The boy's schoolwork wasn't suffering for whatever worries he might have been having, which was admirable, but it was obvious he was more often than not bothered by something. And, Draco would honestly be lying to himself if he said he wasn't interested, although he'd been squashing that interest vigorously well up until two envelopes sat on his desk. So, he opened one. It was Albus's unmistakable neat handwriting, another stark difference from his father's:

_'Hey dad,_

_Are you okay? You don't sound the happiest in your letters. Have you been taking your medication? I don't really know what's wrong. I'm doing great here, though DADA is being difficult currently. I hope you tell me what's up._

_-Albus'_

Then, Draco opened the second one, Potter's reply:

_'Hey bucko,_

_I've been okay, no need to worry about me. I'm taking my medication. I guess I still feel bad about burdening Draco for that month I spent in the hospital. He's really changed, though, for the better too. You know me and him weren't on the best terms back in school, but I suppose that was my fault, what with how rudely I turned down his offer to be friends. I wish I didn't turn him down though, he would be a great friend. He's been through quite a lot, and none of it was his fault, so I suppose I'm a bit hung up on that still. Draco did say he also wished he was through with me, so that's why I told you not to mess with him as much. I won't either, so, I hope you'll be good. Anyways, all in all, your old man's doing great, so don't you worry! Focus on having fun and studying! But mostly fun. Love,_

_Dad'_

Placing the letter down, Draco dropped his head on his desk. _Dammit Potter! _Draco cursed him under his breath, cursed him to hell and back. Fucking prick. Absolute arse. Just _who_ does he think he is? Just waltzing into Draco's life again, making a mess_ again_ and just leaving! Well, okay, to be fair, Draco did tell him he wanted him gone, but that wasn't the point! In his teens Draco's head was always full of nothing but Potter, in good and bad ways, and now, as an adult, it was happening again. He thought he'd grown out of it, he wished he'd grown out of it. Running his hands through his blonde hair, he lifted his head off the desk and stared at the letter, who seemed to be glaring right back at him. As if it was accusing him of something. _Idiot. You had him and let him get away._ Something like that. _Why? _Why couldn't Potter just let him be? Why couldn't he have just left well enough alone? If he hadn't put his kid up to those stupid nicknames, none of this would have happened! _None_ of it. His next class was slowly filing into the classroom though, so Draco quickly concealed both letters, and put on his best teacher mask.

~

"Have you looked at the letters?" Albus asked a few days later, staying behind under the pretense of helping clean up. Draco bit his lip, thinking about what to say for a second:

"Yes, I have." His voice was tentative, but so was Albus's:

"And? What do you think?" The boy practically begged.

"I..I don't know." Draco admitted, sitting down behind his desk, and he could feel his student's disappointment, making him feel awfully guilty. He scrambled for something else to say, something to offer some kind of advice, but in the end, he couldn't really think of anything. "I've known your father for the better part of my teenage years, but like he said, we were never on good terms. I don't think I can tell you anything useful."

Albus was silent, thoughtful for a moment. He didn't quite look at Draco when he spoke, as if he was trying very hard to remember every detail of what he wanted to say:

"You know sometimes, when aunt Mione comes over on holidays, I overhear him talking about you. He always mentions how you had changed so much, how he feels bad he pushed responsibility on you, but also...He mentions very unimportant things, like how much you love green apples, how your hair looks better when you don't 'empty half a gallon of gel into it'" Albus quoted, then continued: "How he used to hate that you were taller than him, but doesn't mind that much now, how you two got into fights over nothing, but how at the same time, he absolutely still loves provoking you." He stopped for a moment. "For someone who claims to have never gotten along well with you, Professor, he sure does talk about you a lot, and seems to know a lot too. Aunt Mione just rolls her eyes at him and scolds him, tells him he needs to stop, that it's been years and that it's getting ridiculous, but he never really stops. He doesn't tell me anything though, only her." 

Draco's mouth was dry, his tongue left wooden in his mouth. 

"And, what's more, you seem to know just as much about him. From the stories you've told me, there was always a point of either him watching you and following you around, or you following him around. No offense Professor, but you climbed an entire tree for the sole purpose of teasing him. A tree! You sent him that swan shaped origami thing too, blew it to him like a kiss." Albus cringed saying that. "You created a whole slew of badges just to make fun of him, and you even know what his favorite dessert is. If I didn't know any better I would think that you two were either best friends or..in love or something." 

The boy finished, finally looking up into Draco's eyes. His eyes were just as bright as Potter's, and just as expressive, if not more so. He started speaking once again:

"He didn't exactly admit this to me, but I think the only reason he sicked me up with the nicknames was to get in contact with you again. I don't think he knew another way to reach out except provoke you in some way, like you always used to do in school." 

Draco still couldn't speak. 

"That's why..that's why I think it has something to do with you. I don't know how to help him, professor. He doesn't want to worry me, so he doesn't really go into detail in the letters, but I can just feel that he's sad, and it's making me sad too." 

Albus admitted, no qualms about it. From what little Draco remembered of the Weaslette, she was always brazen about her thoughts and feelings, and didn't really take any shit from anyone. That's where he must have gotten it from. Potter's stupid recklessness, and Ginerva's boldness. Draco knew that the kid had a future with such qualities. However, the blonde still couldn't speak. Not a word could squeeze past the huge lump in his throat.

"You're my favorite teacher, and if it was anyone else, I wouldn't have told them any of this, but you helped me when he was hospitalized, and..I don't know, I have this feeling you aren't quite as done with him as you said you were Professor." 

Albus waited for Draco to speak, looking at him with those big, round, _green_ eyes. Thankfully, he didn't inherit Potter's horrendous eyesight, so there were no frames hindering the color of his eyes.

"I don't.." Draco started to say something, tried to force anything out but all the words died on his lips. "Albus, I'm sorry. I don't think I can help him." He finally choked out. The boy reacted as if Draco had punched him, flinching physically. Draco's gut twisted again.

"I see..Can I please have my letters back then?" The boy asked, his tone of voice neutral, which honestly scared Draco. He nodded and started digging through his drawers looking for them.

"I'm really sorry about this Albus--" He started to apologize again, as he handed the two envelopes back, but Albus shook his head:

"It's alright. We can't all be Gryffindors." The note of bitterness didn't escape Draco's notice, but he knew he couldn't say anything that would change the boy's mind anymore, so he just let him leave. What was that even supposed to mean? We can't all be Gryffindors..What, was he implying Draco was a coward? Because if he was, he had a fair point. The blonde still couldn't quite believe that a 13-year old kid had lectured him on his own feelings, pointing out things Draco never really wanted to think about again. It was one hell of a lecture too. 

_'If I didn't know better, I would think you two were either best friends, or...in love or something.'_

Certainly never been best friends. Certainly not the other thing either. It was certainly good Albus didn't know any better. Granger had a point, a thought Draco never imagined he'd think in his entire life. It's been years, they really ought to move on. And yet..they couldn't. Draco thought it was only him, chided himself over it countless times over the years, however it seems Potter was just as rubbish at forgetting the past as Draco himself. There was just...something...that wouldn't let him go on like a normal person. Something about Potter. Something in the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled, the curve of his lips when he laughed, there was just _something_. 

It had been there since he was 15, but there were bigger problems at the time than Potter. Now, there was nothing to blame for the queasiness he felt around Potter. No Dark Lords, no secret missions, nothing. Even then, Draco had known what was happening to him, but had an easy time not thinking about it, atop all the other crap that he had to worry about. And then he got caught up with it all, got swept up by the current, and had not once reflected back. There was no need to. Until Potter appeared in his office, grinning like a child on Christmas day. He seemed so unbelievably happy to be there, it made Draco retch. And just like that, Draco had a reason again. To reflect.

Then Potter got hospitalized, and Draco lost over a month in the constant gray that hung over his head, the possibility he wouldn't pull through. The list of injuries was so abysmal, Draco was completely expecting to receive a letter stating Harry Potter was dead at any moment. And this time, he wouldn't be coming back. He remembered how angry he was the day the bastard limped into his office, but also how relieved too. 

And now, his own son comes to Draco telling him how Potter isn't happy, and how it might have something to do with him. Gives him those letters, tells him about what Potter says about him, and effectively tears Draco's entire world asunder. Then he pinpoints inconsistencies in Draco's own past behavior, as if they were the most obvious things in the world. And perhaps they were, though Draco would like to believe he was a bit better at discretion. Comes in and so brazenly makes light of details not even Draco had realized were off until they were pointed out to him. Albus was so sure of himself, of what he'd said, there wasn't a shadow of a doubt in his eyes as he talked about everything he'd noticed and thought about. He was so confident Draco would know what was the smart thing to do, but Draco had let him down. And he hated that, more than anything he hated letting anyone down. But especially, _especially_ his students. 

"Draco?" Minerva's voice snapped him out of it. He looked up at her and gave her a wobbly smile. "What is it dear?" She asked, still not fully viewing him as a colleague, still looking at him as her student. He stood up and joined her side, walking with her through the castle.

"There's nothing wrong, ma'am." Perhaps a part of Draco still saw her as his teacher too.

"Oh come now, dear, you know as well as I do that that's a lie. And please, call me Minerva." She smiled, waving her hand, as if dismissing his words entirely. Draco bit his lip, chuckling under his breath. He didn't really want to talk to anyone about Potter. Mainly because he didn't know what to say.

"I..I don't really.." He tried, but she snickered:

"It's about Harry Potter, isn't it?" She sighed, her tone of voice knowing. Draco didn't reply, but he felt himself flush. '"It's always him with you isn't it?" Minerva clicked her tongue, though there was no bite in her words.

"No--oh, who am I kidding, yes, it's about Potter." Draco stammered, done with himself and done with Potter. 

"What'd he do this time? Stay away for too long?" The light teasing was such a natural part of McGonagall's speech, that Draco almost didn't notice it.

"It's not..It's not him specifically. It's more his son." Draco explained, refusing to look at her.

"Albus? Is he misbehaving?" She asked.

"No, he..well he thinks I can help Potter." Draco almost flinched at Albus's face when he was told there's nothing Draco could do.

"Help Harry with what?" Minerva was patient, which is something Draco admired her endlessly for.

"I don't know. Being happy? Albus just said that his father wasn't happy and was convinced _I, _of all people, could help him." Draco muttered, wringing his hands together.

"And why does he feel that way?" The old woman asked, a smile in her words.

"He gave me this whole lecture about it. A 13 year old lectured me." The blonde huffed, an air of indignation to his voice. It made Minerva chuckle:

"We all need a good lecture every now and then. Have you thought about it? Is there any truth in his words?" 

"No...yes-I mean no, I mean--I don't know..." Draco flushed deeper.

"Ah, so the boy had been completely spot on." Minerva observed. Draco just nodded, and kicked at the ground. He nearly pouted, but stopped himself in time.

"So, what are you going to do?" She asked. "And don't tell me you don't know because you've known since you were 15 years old." The woman added as an afterthought.

"I.." Draco trailed off again. "I need to go, actually." He muttered, and turned on his heel, slipping away before she could say anything else. 

Minerva smiled after his retreating figure, shaking her head. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Such a catastrophic pair, and yet..it worked.

~

"Malfoy?" Potter said, stepping into Draco's office, his arm and leg out of the brace, however he still had a slight limp. Draco had his eyes firmly shut, as Potter tentatively walked in, taking a seat. He opened them again, and pinned the other man with a cold stare.

"You're a bastard, I hate you. Take me to dinner." Came out of his mouth all at once, and Potter blinked like a fish at him.

"What?" The raven asked, and Draco was honestly over it:

"Did I fucking stutter Potter?" He hissed.

"Take you to dinner?" Potter asked again, a smile in his eyes but not on his lips.

"Yes. You heard me." Draco ticked once again, and for a moment, Potter stared at him incredulously, then he burst into laughter. Nothing about this was remotely funny, but Draco felt compelled to at least smile solely from watching Potter lose his mind in the chair, doubling over.

"Did you just very aggressively ask me out?" The man murmured after he was through with his little fit.

"Depends. Will you take me to dinner or not?" Draco asked, his face softening despite himself. Potter gave him a smile that rivaled the fucking sun, eyes shining in delight behind those god awful thick round frames:

"I'd love to."

~

_Fin._


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